Gone With the Win: A Bed-And-Breakfast Mystery by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page B

over-the-counter meds.”
    Joe nodded once. “Okay, you can check to see if anything’s missing as soon as the cops finish processing the room. They don’t expect to find much, but you never know. I’m making sure they vacuum.”
    “Vacuum?” Ruby was obviously puzzled.
    “For hair, fibers, whatever,” Joe said . . . and grinned. “Don’t you watch crime shows on TV?”
    Ruby shook her head. “I’ve seen enough crime in real life.”
    Joe leaned against the fridge. “It’s how they collect samples for DNA. That’s what piqued your interest in your mother’s case, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” Ruby agreed, “but I don’t know how it works. I mean, I don’t know how they find the stuff they use to figure out that somebody was the wrong perp or the real one wasn’t caught in the first place.”
    “Technology moves fast these days,” Joe said, his head cocked in the direction of the entry hall. “The patrol officers aren’t equipped to do a thorough job, so they’ve called in the forensics specialists. It may take a while before you can go up to your room, but can you tell me what you left behind here?”
    Ruby looked askance. “You’re lucky I can tell you my name right now.” She put her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands. “One travel bag with nightgown, underwear, a sweater, a couple of pairs of socks, jeans, a sweatshirt . . . oh, travel slippers. Some makeup. A toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, birth control pills . . .” She paused, apparently expecting some kind of reaction from the Flynns. There was none. Ruby continued with her recital. “Travel alarm clock, heavy-duty nail file, and Fermin the Vermin, my stuffed hamster. He’s my good-luck charm. Oh—my journal. I started keeping one after I moved to Little Bavaria. It helped me get over the ski bum who dumped me.”
    Joe’s expression hadn’t change. “Okay. No camera?”
    “No. I’ve got one on my cell.”
    “Is that in your purse?” Joe asked.
    “Yes.” Ruby looked around. “Where is my purse?”
    Judith also gave the kitchen a quick check. “I don’t think you had it with you. It must be at the Rankerses’ house. I’ll call them.” She stood up to get the phone from the counter. Joe left the kitchen, presumably to check on Smith and Wesson.
    Arlene answered. “Goodness,” she said in response to the question, “I don’t think Ruby had a purse with her. Or maybe Carl put it somewhere after he helped her get inside. Let me ask him. He’s still downstairs watching the tall shorts people with the peculiar names.”
    Hearing a door open, Judith realized that Arlene was taking the phone with her. Soft footsteps followed, then the faint voice of a sportscaster saying, “Duncan grabs the rebound, passes off to Barry . . .” Arlene spoke to Carl, but Judith couldn’t quite make out what she said or what he responded.
    Arlene was back upstairs. “Ruby didn’t have a purse,” she said. “She must’ve lost it. Carl checked the porch and the walk. No luck, I’m afraid. Was she mugged?”
    “I don’t know,” Judith answered slowly, her back turned to Ruby. Drugged, she thought, might be more like it . “Thanks, Ar—”
    “Exactly. Are they making a social call or . . . you know.”
    “Uh—know what?”
    “What I was going to ask. Are the police just in the neighborhood and happened to drop by or did you find another . . . how should I put it? Future obituary?”
    “No!” Judith winced, but kept her back turned. “We may have had a prowler.”
    “Oh.” Arlene sounded disappointed. “Here comes Carl. The game must be over. I’m glad. I feel embarrassed for those poor young men who have to wear frocks on TV. Maybe their names are so odd because they use aliases. I would. Or would I? I do wear a frock for the right occasion, but basketball isn’t one of them.” She rang off.
    Judith finally sat back down and looked at Ruby. “You didn’t have a purse with you.”
    The